


Bookends

by stylinourry



Series: Profound Bond (DeanCas) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Puns, Fluff, I wrote this during study break and look what happened, M/M, Oneshot, Romance, Spn Writing Challenge, and Dean is a hella charming dweeb, the level of fluff in here is quite ridiculous tbh, will write a part 2 soon!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinourry/pseuds/stylinourry
Summary: Cas really needs to study, but he isn't sure where to sit. He decides he should study outside.That is, until a beautiful freckled boy with emerald green eyes tells Cas he can sit on his face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the tags, I wrote this during study break ;-; Midterm season's plagued me and I was itching to write something~ Hope you all enjoy it! I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors and whatnot.

Castiel pushes his glasses up his nose, frowning at the packed sea of bodies before him. Everyone was hunched over their open textbooks, mouths pursed together and foreheads sweating from extreme anxiety, and the sight was so pitiful that Cas almost bolted.

This was definitely midterm season at its worst.

Cas made his way through the throng. One guy's headphones lay snug on his ears, fingers poking his phone while his left hand stabbed little holes into his paper with a pencil. Cas sighs.

He could tell the guy off, ask him to give his seat up to someone who's way more productive than he is, but Cas decides against it. He isn't the type to complain (not in public, anyway).

Cas turns to his right, readjusting his backpack strap. A large study group chatters about oxidation-reduction chemical reactions, and he catches one of them on the brink of a mental breakdown. He quickly looks away.

To his left, there's endless rows of other students unwilling to leave, and Cas is becoming irritable.

You'd think he was used to this constant dilemma already, but today was the kind of day where Cas began to regret every single life choice he had made.

"Oh, sorry!" A girl wearing a bright red blanket scarf knocks into Cas' side by accident, dropping her stack of notebooks atop his feet, and it _hurt_. He holds back from baring his teeth at her. Instead he smiles haphazardly, swear words entering Cas' head like a terrifying storm. The girl, ears pink, runs away from him, and he felt offended.

 _She didn't even say thank you_ , Cas notes bitterly.

He performs a 360 scan from his spot inside the Learning Commons. It was a beehive, and too many worker bees were squished together, buzzing here and buzzing there and refusing to acknowledge the needs of a fellow university student. Cas' temples throb.

He might scream.

Although doing so was unlike him.

"Goddammit," Cas mutters, and someone sitting near him looks up, alarmed at the sudden profanity, yet Cas is too annoyed to care.

"I'm going to study outside. And it's _cold_ ," he snarls, finally giving up.

Cas stomps to the front door. He reaches for the handle until a voice suddenly yells after him, and Cas whips his head around.

"Hey! Uh, I kinda saw that people weren't giving you any place to sit and you looked really frustrated, so - you're more than welcome to sit on my face."

" _Pardon?_ "

Cas nearly sputters the word.

A guy - a _very_ attractive guy - is smirking at Castiel. His perfect teeth show, plump pink lips split wide, and Cas double-checks if he actually was the intended recipient of this shameless display.

No one was paying attention to them.

Cas watched him smile even wider, hooded green eyes twinkling. He regards him with a keen level of interest that made his skin ripple, and Cas is torn between whether or not he should get angry, because who the hell does this guy think he is, hitting on random students?

That was the problem, though. The people around them were rather preoccupied, lacking the awareness to eavesdrop. Cas would like to think it was out of common courtesy.

"Yeah, I don't see anyone else looking at me except you," he says, suave and confident and his voice too deep for his own good.

This very attractive man was flirting with an utter stranger, and Cas, stomach flopping, doesn't know if he truly meant what he said.

The rational side of him that compelled his mouth to retort won.

"Look, leave me alone. You're probably not a student here, either," Cas shoots back, noting the absence of a bag anywhere on the guy's ( _gorgeous_ ) person.

To Cas' surprise, the guy chuckles, a warm, brass sound that he can't believe makes his ears ring wonderfully.

He spreads his muscled sleeve-clad arms, as if attempting to show Cas he could trust him, and Cas senses his mind slipping through his hands.

He hated this man.

"I'm in Engineering. I don't bite. Although I'd like to."

Cas flushes beet red when the guy winks, holding down a nervous cough that bubbled within his throat, and his gaze rakes over Cas' body, consuming the few slivers of self-control that Cas had left.

An unbidden shiver scuttles down his spine.

"Are you a fratboy?"

Cas simply can't find it in himself to be irritated.

The guy swaggers closer to Cas, grinning, tilting his head to the side, and holy god, his Adam's apple was as visible as Mars in the cloudless night sky, and golden freckled skin plunged past his neckline.

He catches Cas staring; his smile intensifies (if that was even remotely possible) while the seconds tick past.

"What makes you think that?"

"The way you talk seems like you're smooth with girls."

 _What?_ Cas swears his brain short-circuited without his consent.

"Not a frat thing. S'all me."

The guy is looking at him again, green eyes bold, expectant, and an electric sheet of tension coats the remaining distance between their bodies.

Okay, perhaps Cas needed to leave despite his innate desire to stay, since this conversation was going nowhere. He couldn't be interested in Castiel, and if he genuinely was flirting, he would have asked for Cas' name and number at this point.

For some odd reason, his chest clenches.

"I - I have to go." Cas' rushed words crash against his own ears, and he doesn't pause, although it was difficult to look back.

An oblivious Cas fails to realize that a small notebook falls out of his backpack's side pocket, dislodged from brushing by the guy's arm.

The man's gaze is transfixed upon the back of Cas' head until he disappears, and he picks up the small notebook, turning it over and over gingerly in his callused, slender fingers, and a knowing grin decorates his pretty face.

 

* * *

 

Cas is sitting in Chemistry lecture, rummaging through his bag desperately. He knows that he stuck his navy blue notebook, equations painted all over its cream pages, right _here_ , but Cas couldn't for the life of him recall where he last put it.

This wasn't the worst thing, however. The front page of his notebook, folded conspicuously in the corner, had numerous important contacts and addresses, including his own.

Cas' guts lurch.

There were two days before his exam. How is he supposed to study now?

He almost tips his bag inside out when a panicked voice sounds in his head, setting off alarms. 

_It fell out._

But where? Cas looks around, frantic, at the sea of students.

And instantly, his mind lurches when he remembers. 

"Oh my _god_."

Needless to say, Cas doesn't attend the lecture as he runs out the door. 

 

* * *

 

Cas huffs and puffs, stalking back to the Learning Commons like his life, his plans, his future, depended on it. 

Ironically, this was true. It was the only study guide and personal resource he had. If that (cute) jerk had the nerve to steal it, Cas wasn't above tipping him off to campus security and informing them that he had stolen a quite valuable piece of his property.

He could visualize those entrancing green eyes, an apology shining-

Cas' phone rings. He paused mid-walk in the middle of the academic square and frustratingly wrenches it out of his jeans pocket, glaring hard at 'Dean Winchester' flashing on the screen.

"Who the hell is this?" Cas presses the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

" _Hey, Cas Novak._ "

Cas' stomach skitters at the low, gravelly, sly voice, because the man who took a strange interest in him thirty minutes ago knew his number. He knew his last name. Then-

" _You're_ the thief who stole my notebook!" Cas snaps, angry (and also trying to keep poorly concealed anticipation out of his voice; Dean Winchester was a beautiful name...as beautiful as him).

" _Whoa now, I didn't_ steal _it. You dropped it when you ran away from me. That hurt my feelings, by the way. I thought we had somethin'._ " He sounds both flirtatiously playful and eager, and Cas doesn't know whether to feel angry or excited. Again.

What was the deal with this guy, setting off his once rational emotions?

"I - you're using my notebook to get to me, aren't you?" Cas tells him, slipping feigned annoyance in there, just for good measure. 

" _Isn't it obvious_?"

"Why you-"

" _Listen Cas, you're not gonna get it back until you agree to go out with me._ " 

Cas is silent for a few beats, frozen in place, hands tingling, and warmth envelops his cheeks. He suspects Dean is smiling with his teeth, wholly receptive to the fact that Cas couldn't possibly reject his offer.

He has some nerve.

"T-this is _blackmail_!"

He hears Dean laugh. His low, amused rumble does things to Cas. 

" _Don't pretend you're not interested. C'mon Cas, I know you wanna._ "

"I have a _chemistry exam_ in two days, Dean Winchester! I need it to study! This useless scheme of yours won't work." 

" _How can you be so sure? You still have two days left. Plus, I love the way you say my name...makes me wanna push your buttons on purpose._ "

"You made me cut class! Do you honestly think I'd still be interested after you pull a stunt like this?"

" _Yep. In logical terms, you probably knew I had it. You knew I must have picked it up and kept it, and yet you still cut class to look for me._ "

 It slipped Cas' often astute mind that Dean was an Engineering student. He made an unfortunate, valid point. 

Cas couldn't believe he was going to throw himself into the deep end, and he clenches his sweaty fists, succumbing to this total and completely unhinged decision.

"... _Fine_. Fine, okay? Maybe - maybe I did want to see you again."

Dean laughs, amusement and satisfaction coating his deep voice. " _Told you so. 'Ya just can't resist me._ "

Cas allows himself to chuckle in reply, albeit a little awkwardly, and butterflies return to plaguing the expanse of his insides. 

"I - I guess I can't."

" _But really though, go out with me. You need to unwind, Cas. I wanna see you so bad. Now that I have your number and your notebook I'm not gonna let you go that easily._ "

Dean's blunt straightforwardness ignites Cas' curiosity, and he licks his lips, intense heat flaring across the bridge of his nose.

"Let me go? What's the context?"

" _You'll find out tonight. Meet me at the Pit, 7. I'll be waiting._ "

A soft click indicates he had hung up.

His first date. With Dean Winchester. Tonight. At the university's Pit bar and restaurant.

Cas sprints to his dorm.

 

* * *

 

He arrives five minutes late, having wasted time from flinging his clothes onto his bed and lacking the capacity to pick out an appropriate date outfit. 

Fortunately, Cas managed to call Charlie, who strongly suggested he opt for dark jeans, a light brown bomber jacket, and a white v-neck shirt. 

"Oh, and ditch the glasses, Castiel."

Cas was appalled.

"Why? I need them to see!" 

"How is this Dean dude supposed to swoon over your big blue eyes if they're hiding behind black-framed glasses that look like you snatched them off Dexter?"

Cas ignored her and tilted his head, confused. "Dexter?"

"Nevermind, forgot you're an antisocial hermit who spends his time holed up in his chemistry batcave. Hey, you said you have contacts, right? Those'll work. Why don't you ever wear them?"

"Because I'm more accustomed to glasses, Charlie."

Cas eventually threw on a white shirt and bomber jacket, inserting his contacts, and Charlie further told him not to do anything to his hair, which Cas foolishly obeyed.

Cas is very nervous, and lightheadedness invades his senses. The noisy, laser-embedded ambience of the Pit does little to quench his growing anxiety, what with the upper years occupying the dance floor and a large group of students hanging around the bar.

Dean finds him, pulling Cas into an empty corner, and he barely registers the lovely smell of his sweet-and-spicy wood musk when Dean leans forward.

"It's pretty loud down here, do you mind if we go to the roof?"

Cas shakes his head, astonishingly grumpy since he wasn't able to see Dean in the darkness. "Sure."

Cas allows Dean to hold his wrist as he leads them upstairs, and Dean's touch facilitates an electric shock that rocks Cas to his very core.

It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

They emerge onto the rooftop soon enough, and the cold air is a gentle breeze. Booths, tables and chairs are lit by candlelight, a proper, more intimate setting for guests, and Cas concludes this is the restaurant.

Now that the lighting was considerably better, he catches Dean watching him with such an intent, deep stare that Cas blushes, avoiding his green eyes to look at the ground.

Those golden freckles and pink full lips from this afternoon are slowly unraveling Cas' confidence.

"Hey." Dean winks, letting go of Cas' wrist. "Let's take the booth on the far end."

Cas follows Dean, still shellshocked at the drastic turn of today's events, and Cas finds his gaze raking down Dean's broad muscular backside. He was wearing a dark green high-collar jacket, black shirt, jeans and boots, and his bowlegs enabled him to swagger flawlessly, as if he can do anything he wants.

Cas' thirst for something he refuses to name intensifies.

"After you," Dean says, standing aside to let Cas slide in first.

Cas sends him a small smile, and his nerves are on fire, burning through his skin when Dean sits next to him. He slings an arm behind Cas' head.

"You look amazing tonight, Cas. Hot."

Dean's voice, Cas muses, has taken on a strange, deep quality, and Cas feels like he could combust and explode simultaneously from Dean's compliments alone.

"T-thanks. You too."

Cas truly thinks it's a bad idea to glance at Dean out of the sheer fear that his instincts would betray him, and he doesn't know what to do with his hands either, so he keeps them interlocked on his lap. Then, Dean presses his thigh, a gentle nudge, to Cas' own.

"You're even hotter with your glasses, though."

That statement jolts Cas. He finally musters up the courage to meet Dean's shimmering green eyes, and his breath hitches.

Dean smirks in return, pleased that he's affecting Cas.

"Really?"

"Yeah. They emphasize your gorgeous blue eyes, in my opinion. They're more Castiel."

Cas doesn't reply, irrationally giddy over Dean's boldness, and he wouldn't want to screw things up once he opened his mouth.

"What?" Dean holds his free hand outwards, reacting to Cas' silence. "You gonna kill me for telling the truth?"

Cas sighs. "No."

They're sitting so close together that Cas nearly freaks, his mind concocting a premature excuse to leave, and perhaps he wasn't prepared for _anything_ tonight.

"Isn't - isn't this going too fast?"

"I could go slow, if you want." Dean grins, lips split wide. He's cocky, flirting without shame and daring Cas to call him out on his blatant innuendo. Cas resists squirming in his seat.

"That was terrible."

"That was genius!"

Cas rolls his eyes, hands remaining still upon his lap. But Cas' skin flares further, hot pinpricks crawling along his body, when Dean takes his hands off his lap and plays with his fingers.

Dean's expression is unbearably fond, too fond and too gentle for someone who has never met him before, and Cas suppresses his desire to count the little fair freckles of Dean's ethereal face using his lips. He swallows the lump lodged in his throat.

"Dean...why me? You don't - you don't know me."

Cas observes the twinkling of Dean's emerald eyes when he looks at him, like green lanterns afloat on the Pacific ocean, and he feels himself spiralling down a rabbit hole that he can no longer crawl out of.

"Here's the thing. I think I do. I always see you at the Commons 'cause I go there to study - most of the time - with buddies. And oh man, for some weird reason you come at the same time every single day...twelve to three, when I happen to be there. You sit at the same table. You're totally focused on studying, but how can someone look so _good_ doing it?" Dean chuckles to himself, and Cas is endeared at the blushes that stain his freckled cheeks. "You're a _chemistry_ major, you twiddle pencils between your teeth, you love crosswords and Commons coffee and bee documentaries - you eat freakin' _kale_ salad. So when I saw you today, pissed like hell at having nowhere to sit, I had to try. I just...I _wanted_ to know you. I needed to know what made you _you_."

"You hit on me," Cas agrees, realizing something important, and a radiant smile threatens to engulf his face. "You blackmailed me into this date."

Cas can't help it.

Dean turns his head away, suddenly shy and awkward - a quaint departure from the irresistibly charming persona he often wore. 

Dean has seen Cas more times than he cared to admit.

Dean has witnessed Cas' random mood swings, illogical lapses, and manic moments in which Cas wasn't sure what he was doing.

"I mean, you assumed I was a douchenozzle frat guy. Shit, I _am_ , but not in _that_ way _-_  I sound like a damn creep."

Cas inhales, and throughout Dean's bashful exchange he notes that Dean never stopped fiddling with Cas' fingers.

"It's not creepy, Dean. Look at me."

Dean licks his lips, sucks in a shallow breath, and Cas dares to touch him. Those wonderful, warm green eyes - eyes that _willingly_ want to know him - caress Cas' face, and stubble tickles the palms of his shaking hands. Dean is stirring his mind, body, and soul like a tornado. It's absolutely insane, yet Cas thinks it's as right as his heart, and a fierce magnetic force within his chest was rattling, rattling very hard that Cas thought he would faint.

" _Cas..._ "

Dean's voice is a mere whisper, releasing faint wisps amidst the subtle rooftop chill of the night air, and Cas doesn't at all care that their waitress may be forced to approach them much, much later.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

The tips of their noses brush; Cas is hyperaware of the distance between them, which was decreasing faster than his misplaced sanity, and Dean leans forward to bracket Cas' body on either side: one sinewy arm atop the headrest, the other on the booth table. Cas runs his hands along solid planes of chiseled, firm chest.

"Can't believe I'm doing this either, Cas."

Dean smells like woodland musk, fried food, and cinnamon with an underbrush of typical frat whiskey, and his scent washes Cas when their lips meet.

There's a quaky pounding in Cas' ears, and he knows it's his heartbeat, muting all other sounds around him to a soft murmur. Dean's lips are supple, the plumpness of it evident by the way he kisses, and ferocious sparks cloud Cas' eyelids while Dean traces his tongue over the corners of Cas' mouth.

Cas hears their rapid breaths, taut with the compelling wave of desire that strings them together, and their mouths perform a sweet sensual dance, kissing here and kissing there, and Dean brings a hand up to the back of Cas' neck, fingers interlocked in his hair, when the mood shifts precariously.

He feels Dean pressing heated kisses to his jawline. They burn, leaving invisible marks, and it's only when Cas' back hits the wall of the booth that he absorbs the unstable urgency coming off of them.

Cas has never been kissed like this before. It's as if he's drunk, mystified from Dean's tongue touching him in places he did not suspect. Dean kisses an intense line down his neck, then kisses the junction between Cas' neck and shoulder, until his lips hover above Cas' ear. Dean's teeth bite down on his earlobe, drawing a rough hiss of pleasure from Cas.

" _Dean_ , oh god-"

Cas' arms encircle Dean's shoulders, his wet tongue instantly soothing the area he bit, and they both pant, the loss of oxygen an amazing high when their mouths reconnect once again.

"Cas--Can I--"

Dean says in-between kisses, whining lowly at whatever his intentions were, but Cas figures he knows what Dean is asking him, Dean's tongue licking hesitantly, slowly, waiting for permission yet so impatient.

Dean need not ask him twice.

Cas opens his mouth, yielding to him, and Cas feels his body shiver, welcoming the intrusion. He holds back a moan, Dean's tongue twisting with his; Cas swallows Dean's own groans, and it's such a supreme sensation that Cas could discern the beginnings of a tight coil inside him. It bubbles low in his abdomen, and fortunately Cas isn't too winded enough to forget how inappropriate this scenario was.

It takes an _incredible_ amount of conscious willpower to push Dean off, and when Cas does, he misses Dean's lips.

"What...?" Dean mumbles, dazed, and his pupils are blown as he breathes hard, the vivid green of his eyes almost indistinguishable. His freckles seem to swim, illuminated by candles, and a permeable glow that emanated from his skin lit the flames of Cas' heart. "Why'd ya stop?"

Dean noses at Cas' cheek, and a giggle escapes him when Cas attempts to worm out of his grip. "You taste _so_ good Cas...you're beautiful inside an' out-"

" _Dean_ ," Cas says, laughing, and he swears he is still within the grasp of this entrancing, unbelievable spell. "There's people here. We have to order food!"

However, before Cas could protest and put up a brave fight, Dean dives in again, and he is immediately lost to everything that isn't Dean Winchester.

Including his notebook.

And Cas is glad.

**Author's Note:**

> That was gross fluff :P I plan to write a Part 2 oneshot (which is hopefully longer than this one)~ Should I go for it? Thank you so much for reading everyone!
> 
> p.s. SPOILERS: also, writing Part 2 will really help soothe my aching heart from the pain of S12 Episode 3. Mary left her boys again and I'm hurting for them! *sigh*


End file.
